


baggage claim

by troubledpancakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Las Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledpancakes/pseuds/troubledpancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bellamy & clarke end up with each others bags after leaving the airport.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a cs prompt about mixed up baggage, so i took it for a run with bellarke.  
> bless cardinalrachelieu for being my proofreader (also, check her out)
> 
> kind of fluffy/cute puke
> 
> i don't even know, forgive me?

You're now reading: Baggage Claim--

 

Edit: by nathenmiller, all images were found through google image searches; I claim no rights to them. All characters in this story are not original, only tweaked to serve my alternative universe needs. Please forgive me for any OOC-ness, such is the way with au!fic, though, isn't it?

* * *

 

Clarke Griffin poured her energy into her job. The traveling doctor-slash-educator who had been hurt enough to know that relationships didn't necessarily work-- and possibly weren't worth the time and effort that they begged-- found herself in the midst of a mix-up that caused to reevaluate her entire belief system on the matter. A case of mistaken baggage lead to a drunken night in Vegas and... a marriage? She must learn how to navigate her feelings and a situation she is completely and totally unprepared for before she misses out on something that could change her life-- and heart, forever.


	2. intro

In the rush of catching his cab to the campus, Bellamy grabbed his suitcase with nothing more than a quick glance at the tags. Generic black luggage that he picked up at TJ Maxx  was all that he needed-- nothing fancy. Due to flight delays, they had landed late and he had to give a presentation as a guest lecturer to a class in half an hour.

+

Half asleep, Clarke heaved her black bag off the conveyor belt and it trailed lazily behind her as she headed to the exit. She had been flying all night, her final flight landing her in New York, where she was getting ready to lead a seminar on ‘Bedside Manner and Personnel Tactics’ at a local hospital. She took a left out of the sliding glass doors towards the subway station after she stopped at the newspaper stand to grab a quick coffee.

+

Bellamy made it to the first class in the nick of time, he walked straight into the room to give his presentation on the ‘Effects of Poverty and Discrimination on Youth Crime’ to a class in at a small university in New York. He had been flying to different college campuses to give different presentations as an expert for the Baltimore Police Department. He finished his three class presentations and headed to the hotel he was being put up at. He was on the sixth floor and he dumped his suitcase on the bed and headed straight for the wall of windows to stare out at the killer skyline view his room offered.

+

Clarke’s seminar wasn’t until the following day so she decided to head to the hotel for an early check-in and take a nap-- the coffee hadn’t done a damn thing. She didn’t bother taking a shower, or even changing before crawling into the plush bed laid out before her. When she woke, the sun had sunk beyond the horizon. It was already past seven and her stomach growled at her. The hotel had a bar and restaurant on the main level and she decided to treat herself to a nice dinner-- but that would mean actually using soap and a hair brush. She sauntered over to the chair she had left her suitcase in and unzipped it.

+

Bellamy loosened his tie as the room had grown dark; he felt he had earned a drink after a long day of presentations, so he decided to change out of his business attire into something more casual. He returned to the bag he had left on the bed and went to open it… revealing a meticulously folded array of women’s blouses, a small toiletries bag and an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ book. _What the hell?_ This was **not** his bag!

+

Clarke lifted the flap of the suitcase, only to find various items including an assortment of ties, a leather jacket, dark wash jeans, and a single blue toothbrush. She stepped back in surprise, this was **not** her bag! She quickly searched the handle of the bag for it’s tag:

 _Bellamy Blake_  
 _50 E Lancaster Street, Apt 32_  
 _Baltimore, MD  
_ _410-555-2109_

Clarke wondered how she could have been so careless as to grab someone else’s luggage, they must be freaking out. She sighed and sat down on the bed with her cell phone and input the phone number from the tag.

+

Bellamy flipped the cover back on the suitcase, it felt invasive to be staring into a woman’s luggage. _Oh god, how could I fuck this up?_ At that moment he felt the phone in his jacket vibrating and he pulled it out to see a number he didn't recognize.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hi, is this Bellamy Blake?”

“It is, who’s this?”

“Oh good, my name is Clarke Griffin, and I think I grabbed your suitcase on accident at the airport this morning.” she replied. “God knows where mine is.” She mumbled as an afterthought.

Bellamy reached over to the label on the strangers bag to reveal Clarke Griffin’s information. “Oddly enough, Dr. Clarke Griffin… your bag is in my possession.”

She sighed from relief, “Oh thank god! I was worried I was never going to see it again. I’m assuming you’d like your things returned to you, would it be possible to meet tonight?”

“Of course, I’m staying at the Marriott on West.”

“Oh my god, well, this should be easy-- that’s where I’m staying as well. What’s your room number?”

Bellamy double-checked his room information, “I’m in 6054.”

Clarke was let out a short chuckle, “Step outside.”

Bellamy tipped his head at the request, but still on his phone, he poked his head into the hallway. He glanced in both directions, to the left he saw a cute blonde waving at him, phone to her ear, just a few doors down. He hung up the phone as he walked towards her, not failing to notice her curvy figure and watery blue eyes.

“Thank god for strange coincidences?” Clarke beamed at the dark-haired man before her.

“I guess so,” Bellamy sighed, suddenly very aware that his hair was disheveled and his tie was loose and askew.

Clarke opened up the the door to allow Bellamy through the entrance, his broad stature barely squeezing past her. He grabbed his suitcase from her bed as she waited for him. She was wearing sweatpants and a white tank-top., her hair in a loose, messy braid down her back.

“You look a little young to be a doctor, Mrs. Griffin.” Bellamy joked.

Clarke blushed, “It’s just miss, and yeah, I get that a lot.” She had her arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the door. He had a lean build, messy dark curls (in a good way) and a medley of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. He had a funny way of pursing his lips when he smiled that kind of made her weak. It was an understatement to say he was handsome.

He had picked up his suitcase and dragged it behind him out into the hallway.

“Hang on, let me grab yours.”

“Oh, no, I can come--”

“No, no, please, let me.”

Clarke hung back in the doorway and she watched the man stroll back to his own room, disappearing into it for just a short moment. He came back into sight with her own belongings and she let out a deep breath with a smile.

He noticed how her eyes got real bright when she smiled, and he noticed the small gap between her two front teeth and the cute dimple in her chin. And he definitely noticed that she was the perfect height to fit against his own… not that he was… thinking about… that.

“Well, what a fun adventure this has been.” Clarke said, moving the bag just inside the door.

Bellamy nodded in agreement, “It was nice to meet you doc.” He took a small step backwards, smiling, before shoving his hands in his pockets and returning to his room. Once he was back in the quiet of his room, he grabbed a wad of clothing from his bag and headed for the bathroom. He indulged in a quick shower to freshen up before he headed down to the bar, feeling relieved to finally be rid of the stiff suit he’d been stuck in all day.

+

Clarke moaned in delight as the warm water ran down her body, her mind reverting back to the radically handsome gentleman three doors down. Realizing just how warm she was getting, she quickly turned the faucet to the cold setting to bring her back to reality. She wrapped herself in a towel and meandered back into the room. She dressed herself in one of the meticulously folded blouses and a pencil skirt, dabbed on a bit of red lipstick and though still damp, wove her hair into a braid.

No sooner than she’d pulled on her second shoe she heard a knock at the door. Small lines formed a crease between her eyebrows at her curiosity, but she moved to open it.

“Hi.”

Bellamy Blake was standing before her, no longer in a wrinkled suit, but in a black v-neck and dark wash jeans, topped off with a leather jacket and newly ruffled hair. Clarke raised her eyebrows slightly as she noticed his eyes casing up and down her own figure.

“Did you forget something, Mr. Blake?” Clarke cocked her head with a sly smile.

“Yeah, I did.” He did that weakening thing with lips and his eyes crinkled just slightly, _“Do you want to get a drink?”_


	3. now boarding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switched luggage, now they bump into each other their flight to Las Vegas? What next?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several people asked for more. And now ideas have spun out of control. So you're going to get it. You're going to get _so much more_ ... fuck.

Clarke floated through the next day. She floated through her seminar. She floated through dinner with a few of the doctors from the seminar. For some damned reason, she couldn't get a certain tall, dark, and handsome cop out of her mind.

_“So let me get this straight,” Bellamy counted, “you graduated from high school at seventeen, got your bachelors at twenty, and you’re already a doctor at twenty-eight?” He couldn't hide the astonishment from his face._

_“Yeah, something like that.” Clarke hated having this much attention on her, but there was something so magnetic about this man in front of her._

_“I will drink to that, princess.”_

She had a late flight to catch to Las Vegas after dinner and she had the front desk call her a cab while she collected her things from the concierge. She had made sure to tie a small ribbon on her bag this time around so she’d be more capable of correctly identifying her own luggage.

_“Eat, Pray, Love. Huh?” A stupid grin lit up his face._

_”Shut up, it was a gift! I promised my grandma I’d read it before Thanksgiving-- something for us to talk about.”_

_“That’s… adorable.” Clarke just shook her head at him as he waved down the waiter._

_“Can I have another beer, and..” He looked pointedly at Clark to gather whether she wanted another drink. She was holding an almost empty martini glass; thinking for a short minute, she took the last swig and nodded approvingly.  “Another martini for the lady.”_

_Clarke smiled at him.“Also, the world needs to know: who carries that many ties for such a short trip?!”_

_“I like options!”_

She stood in the security check line at the airport, she had thrown on leggings and an over-sized sweater-- comfy clothes for a long, late-night flight. She had only her small carry-on with her Kindle and iPod, ready to fall asleep as soon as the plane took off. She made it through the security checkpoint relatively hassle free, only realizing she had forgotten to throw out the bottle of Diet Coke she hadn't finished earlier-- oops. Finally, Clarke made it to her gate and plopped down on an empty row of seats by the window, pulling out her Cosmo magazine. (Not every day is the right kind of day for Eat, Pray, Love.)

+

Bellamy had one final lecture in the mid-afternoon, so he took the morning to walk to Central Park and have lunch at one of the food trucks parked around the city. After the last class, he had dinner with a few of the professors he was guest lecturing for before he headed to the airport.

He was running a few minutes late (due to the fact that he couldn't hail down a cab) and he made it through security with just fifteen minutes left until boarding ended and he’d be forced to spend the night in the airport until the next flight to Vegas. He had stopped to grab a sandwich at one of the shops before they closed, arriving just as the line for boarding call started moving. He hopped in quickly and made his way to the plane. A small leather messenger bag was draped across his body as the made his way down the narrow aisle, rows of three lined each side. The flight wasn't too crowded, and he was lucky enough to have gotten a window seat. As he settled into his spot, he glanced over to his left, body freezing mid-action. _Shit._

Directly opposite him in the window seat across the aisle sat a certain spunky blonde from the night before. She was absentmindedly sifting through articles in her purse. He froze, mind flashing back to last night.

_“So, you helped start three new Big Brother Big Sister programs-- and even had your own Little Brother?” Clarke leaned forward on the table, glass still in her hand as she beamed at the much more relaxed cop in front of her._

_“Well, I mean, I practically raised my sister, Octavia, but I also know how feels not to have a prominent male figure in your life. When I was young, I got myself into a lot of trouble because I thought it made me a man. I did whatever the hell I felt like, and it ended up causing my family more pain than anything. Growing up without my dad was hard, especially after my mom died and it was just me and Octavia. It wasn't easy being in charge, but she was my responsibility and I had to grow up.”_

_A few hours, and several drinks later, they had found themselves in front of Bellamy’s door-- only inches between them. Tension hung in the air as Bellamy dug his key from his back pocket, body leaning in towards hers, faces now only a breath away._

_He cleared his throat, “Um, do you maybe want to come in?” He fiddled with the key in his hand._

_Clarke’s eyes met his, her body warm from the alcohol, and she bit her lip in contemplation. “You know, I really should get going.” Her eyes dropped to the floor as she took a tiny step backwards. “I have an early morning.”_

_Bellamy gave a sad, understanding smile, “I get it. I probably should get some sleep, as well…”_

_Clearing his throat he straightened his body back up, giving Clarke a little more space. (Not that she really wanted it.)_

_“Good night, Mr. Blake,” she tipped her head as she began to work her way backwards toward her own room-- practically falling over herself._

_“That’s Detective Blake, to you.” He winked as he slipped his key into the door, opening it slowly to observe the charming doctor walk away._

_She whipped her head around for one last look, flashing a smile, before procuring her own key from her purse and entering her room._

And now there she was.

On his flight.

On the same row.

An aisle away.

He was staring now, and before he could catch himself she turned and saw him-- her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Well, well, well…” She smiled.

“Uh, ha, hi there.” He stammered. What the hell?

“Hi, back.”

The flight had finished boarding, and neither one of them had anyone fill the rest of the seats on their respective rows. A few awkward moments of silence hung between the practical strangers before Bellamy made a move to get up from his seat.

At that same moment the flight attendant swooped in, “I’m sorry sir, we’re about to prep for take-off, I will need you to fasten your seatbelt.”

“I just--” he started, “Ack, okay.” He sat back down, eyeing Clarke on the other side of the aisle. She smiled at his failed attempt. He strapped back into his seat and waited patiently for takeoff, tapping his fingers on the arm rest.

Some time later, the seatbelt light finally dimmed, and Bellamy unfastened his and slid into the seat beside Clarke.

She narrowed her eyes at him with a smile. “Are you stalking me, _Detective_ Blake?”

“Now, I could ask the same of you, Doctor Griffin.”

She grinned, “It’s nice to see you again, Bellamy.”

“So, what’s in Vegas?” Bellamy asked her, his body turned as much as possible in the tiny airplane seat so he could face her.

“I have another seminar in a few days just outside the city, so I thought I’d take a tiny vacation _inside_ the city before it. I've never been to Las Vegas before, and my best friend Raven always told me it was something I had to do before I died. She’s actually going to meet me here the day after tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a fun weekend.”

“Yeah, I've been on the go so much the past couple of weeks with all these seminars, it’ll be nice to have a little fun.” Clarke sighed.

“Sounds like you deserve it.”

“And what about you, fancy police man? What awaits you in Sin City?” Clarke teased.

“I’m actually heading to a convention, real hoity toity. There’s a big party tomorrow night to kick off the weekend,” he answered. “... Hey, you should come with me! I bet it’d be a lot more fun if I had a beautiful lady, such as yourself, by my side.”

Something about this man was intriguing to Clarke, and she had a hard time coming up with a reason to say no. “Where is this convention being held?

“MGM Grand.”

“Well, that’s a _bit_ fancy for me. I’m just staying at a humble little hotel off the strip.”

“I’ll come and pick you up, it’ll be great.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Okay…” she finally said, cautious. “How’s eight o’clock sound?”

“Perfect.” Bellamy smiled and leaned back in his seat, allowing Clarke to settle into her own. She pulled her headphones from her bag and shot tiny glances to Bellamy who remained sitting next to her instead of returning to his own seat.

It was late and the flight was long, but Bellamy actually enjoyed the turbulence. Clarke had fallen asleep with her head resting in her hand. The plane made a small bump and she came to-- a little disoriented but not actually awake. She leaned over and laid her head against Bellamy’s arm, adjusting her whole body to get comfortable in her new position.

He grinned to himself. He was okay with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life is a joke.
> 
> Thank [Rachel](http://hellamyblake.tumblr.com) for editing all my shite, all the time.


	4. runway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a night in vegas + a little too much tequila makes clarke a little adventurous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the long, long, delay-- but now you get TWO NEW CHAPTERS, because i got a little carried away.

Their flight landed fairly late, and Clarke waved good-bye as she hopped into a cab. “See you tomorrow!”

When she arrived at her hotel, she checked-in and crawled right into bed. Only waking up to the sound of her phone dinging somewhere hidden in her sheets. She searched for it, yanking the bedding around until she found it.

“Hello?” she grumbled.

“Clarke. Do not tell me you were still asleep, it’s two o’clock!” her best friend yapped at her.

 _The fuck?_ “Two? Two in the afternoon?” Clarke held the phone away from her ear so she could see the time: 2:07 PM.  “Oh, god. Sorry, my flight got in so late last night. What time is your flight tomorrow, Ray?”

“My flight gets in around ten tomorrow. You still want to meet me at the airport? We can grab lunch before hitting the strip!”

“Yeah,” Clarke sat up, “that sounds great!” She grimaced at she tried to run her hands through her tangled hair. “I’ll see you in the morning, then, yeah?”

“Perfect, ciao, babe!”

Clarke hung up the phone, flopping herself back on the bed. She decided she’d get up and explore a little bit, maybe have a late lunch before coming back to get ready for the party.  Getting dressed quickly, she headed out to catch the Deuce for the day-- hopping on and off along the strip, hoping to find the perfect place to let loose with her best friend the next day.

She got lost near a small line of shops and she passed a window with a sparkly silver dress that had a hemline that was _way too short_ and hugged her curves a little too well. She smiled to herself, _maybe I owe myself this one._

She entered the boutique hesitantly, eyeing the mannequin wearing the dress she favored. A clerk approached her gently, “Can I help you with something, ma’am?” She offered a smile.

Clarke sighed, “I really love that dress up there,” she pointed to the silver number. “Only, I’m afraid I can’t pull it off.”

The clerk-- her nametag read Raina-- gave her an incredulous look, “Honey, you look _exactly_ like you could pull that dress off.” She took a moment to look over Clarke’s body before nodding and scurrying off to the back of the store.

Fidgeting nervously, Clarke almost second-guessed herself and retreated to the door. She had taken one step backwards when Raina had reappeared with the dress in her hands, urging Clarke toward the dressing area and thrusting the outfit into her reluctant arms.

Clarke closed the curtain behind her, staring at herself in the full-length mirror before stripping herself of her current business casual attire. She unzipped the sparkly dress and pulled it from the hanger, dangling it in front of herself she stepped into it and pulled it up over her shoulders. The dress fit perfectly-- Raina was a goddess at figuring out sizes, apparently-- and _damn_ she felt sexy. She took a deep self-satisfied breath before stepping out of the dressing room to show-off the number to the clerk.

Raina beamed, “That’s incredible. What’s your name, honey?”

“Clarke,” she said as she spun a little, trying to admire the dress from all angles.

“Clarke, whoever you’re trying to impress… he’s not going to know what hit him.”

+

Bellamy was up early the next morning. He wanted to get a workout in before the the day got too warm-- he found it really difficult to keep up his regimine when he was traveling so much, and whenever he could squeeze one in, he did. Las Vegas was an interesting place at six in the morning, he found as he jogged through the cool morning haze. He returned to his hotel room drenched in sweat, and, stripping off his shirt and his shorts, he hopped in the shower.

Registration for the convention started at noon. So, after his post-workout breakfast he headed to the conference center on the main level to sign up for his seminars and to RSVP with a plus one for the welcome bash that evening. He ran into a couple of friends in the lobby and they headed out for a late lunch. A few hours of small talk and a couple of beers later, Bellamy decided to retire to his hotel room for a quick nap.

He set an alarm for 6:30 PM, to give him time to shower and get ready before picking up his _date_. He stood in front of the mirror, casually ruffling his hands through his hair… trying to get that _perfectly_ disheveled look-- it wasn't as effortless as it seemed sometimes. It was 7:30, and he was tying his shoes when the screen on his phone lit up next to him. Reaching for it, he saw it was from Clarke, giving him the address to her hotel.

He couldn't help but smile at himself-- he was genuinely excited. Grabbing his wallet from the table, he left the room for the lobby, only stopping by the front desk to call him a cab. A few minutes later, his cab was stopped in front of a modest hotel just off the strip. He asked the the driver to wait just a few minutes while he popped inside to meet Clarke.

He stood in the middle of the semi-busy vestibule. There were several couples loitering around in snazzy outfits, undoubtedly headed out to do similar debaucherous things. His eyes wandered until they found a blonde whose back was facing him. She was wearing four inch stilettos and a dress that was just _made_ for Sin City. She must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned around in time to see Bellamy’s mouth drop just slightly when he realized who the bombshell was.

Clarke smiled confidently-- this was her one night to not give a damn about the hospital and her seminars. She didn’t have to wear her scrubs or her orthopedic shoes. She could do whatever the hell she wanted, and _tonight_ , she wanted to go to a party with an incredibly handsome cop from Baltimore.

+

The convention center was full of women in sparkly, skin-tight dresses like the one Clarke was wearing-- and men in fancy blazers donning drinks for themselves and their dates. Bellamy led Clarke with a hand at the small of her back as she clutched a small purse in front of herself with both hands. The music pulsed through the large ballroom as the lights twinkled and changed with the melody-- a DJ was perched on an elevated stage on the side opposite the bar.

"I'll get us some drinks," Bellamy leaned in to say to Clarke above the pop song playing loudly as Clarke nodded anxiously. _This was definitely not her usual scene._ She trailed behind Bellamy slowly, taking in the room around her-- the people and the mood and the extravagance of it all. A moment later, Bellamy returned to her side with a bubbly-pink drink for her and a beer for himself.

"I haven't been to a party in ages," Clarke said.

"What?" Bellamy leaned in, unable to hear over the steady hum of the crowd. His face was suddenly inches from hers.

"I _said_ , I haven't been to a party in ages!" She laughed, trying to adjust the hem of her dress nonchalantly. "I feel so out of place."

His breath was hot against her neck, "Well you definitely don't _look_ out of place."

Clarke felt a slight flush creep into her cheeks and she smiled downward. Someone called out Bellamy's name, and Bellamy returned the jovial greeting-- reaching out to shake hands with the approaching gentleman in a sports blazer.

"Miller, this is Clarke--" Bellamy said, his hand returning to the small of her back as Miller reached out to greet Clarke’s delicate hand.

"Nice to meet you, Clarke. I work with this loser over here," he chuckled as Bellamy shook his head.

Amused, Clarke smiled, "Ah, yes-- you must tell me _all_ of the embarrassing stories you know about this guy." A mortified look spread across Bellamy's face as Miller smiled menacingly-- clearly he had quite a few stories locked away for situations precisely like this.

Bellamy silently mouthed _no_ as Miller began rambling on about the time in the academy when the guys in his class (himself included) stole Bellamy's clothes from the stall as Bellamy showered-- forcing him to return to the dorm buck naked... while room inspections were happening. Clarke laughed, throwing her head back as the stories spilled out.

Miller had bought them all shots of tequila as they gathered around a small table, several more of Bellamy's co-workers and friends joining them-- giving Bellamy noticeable approving looks at the blonde standing much too close to him.

"One of the first times Bellamy was supposed to meet with the Chief of Police of New York, he forgot his tie and went into the meeting hoping no one would notice-- oh, she did. Talk about looks that could kill."

"Ha! That must be why he carries twelve thousand ties at once now!"

"Hey, now. It's six ties, goddamn," Bellamy said, downing the rest of his third (fourth?) beer. "And I seem to recall that _you_ forgot your belt that same day and your pants nearly fell down when you were shaking her hand!"

Miller nearly spit out his drink as the group laughed. Another guy from the group bought a round of tequila shots-- Clarke was definitely beginning to feel the fuzzy warmth of intoxication. A familiar song began to play as Clarke swayed, "Oh my god, I love this song! Dance with me!" She grabbed Bellamy's hand and pulled him to the dance floor as Bellamy looked back at the whooping group of guys and shrugged.

Clarke snaked her armed around his waist and pulling him in close, before turning and pressing her backside up against him. His hands went to his waist, warm as Clarke grinded back against Bellamy. Bellamy leaned down, breathing hotly against her neck as she tilted her head back and bit her lip.

This was the last thing Clarke remembered before she woke up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, many thanks to my dear [rachel](http://hellamyblake.tumblr.com/) \-- who you should all follow and adore, for editing my shite work despite being incredibly busy.
> 
> please, please, let me know what you think, i've got some fun surprises ahead. much love my bellarke bbs.


	5. take off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> waking up with a ring and a headache - not always the best combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's new chapter #2-- i know that this trope has been done a few times, but I PROMISE I have twists in store, and you won't be disappointed! :)

Her head was pounding and her mouth felt dry and cotton-y. She groaned as her eyes opened slowly, squinting against the light. She stretched out beneath the sheet, her toes curling as a shiver of pleasure went through her body. She brought her hand to the bridge of her nose as pain pounded right behind her eyes-- _oh my god._

A small golden band on the ring-finger of her left hand reflected a ray of light streaming in from the window and her eyes shot open-- suddenly wide awake. Her body began to tingle with memories of pleasure from the night before. She slowly turned her head to the left, praying. _No. Nonononono._ This can't be happening. Detective Bellamy Blake was sprawled out next to her, face down in the pillow. The muscles on his back were taut and rippling as the twisted sheets barely covered the lower half of his golden body.

She realized she, too, was naked and she instinctively gathered the sheets up and pulled them against her chest. Her eyes were panicked as they flitted from her finger to the figure next to her. _OH MY GOD._ She shut her eyes and groaned quietly, her body still feeling the affects of the alcohol from the night before.

_Ping, ping, ping._

"Fuck!" Clarke murmured, clamping her hand over her mouth as she searched her sheets for her phone going off. Bellamy groaned and shifted as Clarke froze, waiting until she was sure he was still asleep.

_Oh god._

She found her found at the end of the bed and she snatched it up-- Raven's picture flashed across the screen. She crawled out of the bed, dragging the sheets with her, revealing Bellamy's bare (and toned) ass-- she bit back a groan and headed for the bathroom.

"Oh, my god, Rae--" she whispered into the phone.

"Clarke? Babe, where are you? Why are you whispering? I landed twenty minutes ago!"

Clarke pulled the phone back from her ear and checking the time-- 10:21 AM.

"Shit, Raven. I am so sorry, I'm-- I--" Clarke had no idea what to say. How does she explain to her best friend that she was late to pick her up from the airport because she woke up naked and a ring on her finger in bed with a (practically) complete stranger. "Ugh, I'll explain it when you get here. Not here. To the hotel. Oh god."

"What the hell is going on, Clarke?" Raven could hear things rustling in the background, and she was fairly sure she heard some sort of crash and a _'ah fuck.'_

"I don't-- _shit_ \--I don't know. Can you get a taxi to our hotel?"

"Uh, yeah... I'll be there within the hour." Raven hung up.

Clarke leaned back against the bathroom door as she hung up the phone. Taking a deep breath, she slowly cracked open the door-- Bellamy remained still in the bed. She took a moment to scan the room for her clothing, her dress was by the door, her underwear flung across the room-- she grimaced.

_"WOO, 'I like us better when we're waaaasted'" Clarke sang loudly (and slightly out of tune.)_

_Bellamy threw his head back in laughter as he beckoned to Clarke to come down off the table._

_"No, I don't want to!"_

_Bellamy raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"_

_"How about yooooou come up here!" She teased, stumbling slightly-- the drink in her hand sloshing around. Bellamy just smirked and shook his head._

_Pouting, Clarke slumped her shoulders and took Bellamy's hand, hopping down from the table and grabbing her shoes from the floor. He had his tie loosened around his neck and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows._

_"It's not fair, y'know," Clarke slurred._

_"What's not fair?" Bellamy leaned in._

_"You get to look that good and I don't even get to kiss you."_

_A smile tugged at the corners of Bellamy's mouth, "Who says?"_

_"Hm?" Clarke's eyes were raking Bellamy's body as her fingers tip-toed up his shirt._

_Bellamy crashed down on to her, both of them stumbling against the table Clarke had just come down from. It was wet and sloppy and Bellamy's hands were everywhere. Clarke snaked her hands up around his neck and pulled his mouth down harder on to hers._

_They were unaware of how_ in-public _they were, but they didn't care._

_"Mmmm, oh-- OH." Clarke was moaning between kisses, his mouth now hot against her neck. "You're good at-- hmm-- this." Unable to string together a coherent sentence she just tugged on him, trying to back towards a hallway at the rear of the ballroom._

_Clarke had her fingers at the hem of his shirt, attempting to release it from his pants, "I-- ah, I never do this."_

_"Mhm," Bellamy hummed in her neck between kisses. They were tucked away in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, but the music was still audible and the lights danced around them._

_"I mean, one time I got drunk at my cousins wedding and almost fell into a fountain, but I--"_

_"Clarke."_

_"Hm?"_

_"Shut up."_

Clarke glided over the carpeted floor towards her underwear, still clutching the sheets against her chest-- and she nearly made it. Just as she was reaching down to grab the lacy garment, she bumped into the small table adorned with hotel knick-knacks, sending them clattering to the floor-- she froze.

"Clarke?"

Clarke straightened up slowly, spinning on her heel to answer the call-- a very naked Bellamy had pulled himself into a seated position as he rubbed his temples.

She was a deer in the headlights, completely frozen-- naked, except for the sheet and hair completely mussed and underwear in her hand. She gulped loudly.

"Hi," she managed meekly.

They stared at each other for a moment-- Clarke trying her hardest not to let her eyes wander.

The silence was deafening.

"So..." Bellamy finally said.

Clarke bit her top lip and nodded knowingly.

Bellamy clearly registered the new weight on his left ring finger.

"I'm so sorry, I _never_ do things like this," Clarke blurted out, raising the sheets to cover her mortified face.

Bellamy smirked (he smirked!) "Yeah... you said that a couple of times last night, from what I can remember."

Clarke groaned, "And how much do you remember?"

Running his hands through his hair, he squinted in concentration, "Uh, not much to be honest." He raised his hand towards the blonde standing frozen in front of him. "But, apparently it went well enough."

"Gah-- god, can you _please_ cover up?!" Clarke finally said exasperatedly.

Bellamy waved his hands, "You're the one who took the sheet!"

Her face went red, "I _needed_ it!" She shuffled a few steps, trying not to reveal her mostly bare backside to the man lying in front of her, and grabbed her dress from the chair by the door that it was flung over. "I am so late, I have to go-- _I have to go!_ " Clarke was frenzied. Bellamy had moved the edge of the bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his bag near the nightstand.  

"Okay-- but we're not done with this. Obviously we have... _things_ to talk about."

Clarke shot him a wary look, he had taken a few steps closer to her, and she was shaking her head-- even if the rest of her body was pooling with warmth. "No... no no. I have to go," she said, mostly to herself, and she turned to escape to the bathroom-- not realizing Bellamy had placed his weight on the edge of the sheet, keeping it anchored in the ground and she walked right out of it.

Gasping, she tried to hide her body with the balled up dress in her hands and retreated to the bathroom with a yelp. She could just feel the smug bastard smiling to himself.

A few moments later, she returned to the main room, now (sort of) dressed in last nights ensemble and she grabbed her shoes and clutch a huff, storming towards the door.

"See you soon, darling wife," he said jovially.

_Somewhere between Bellamy's hands crossing the threshold of her dress hemline in the back of the ballroom and the two of them ripping each others clothes off back in Bellamy’s room-- they had found themselves at a chapel down the strip._

_They had ended up outside because Clarke was hot and wanted to go dance in a fountain-- or something. Bellamy was too drunk to care-- he felt light and was laughing right along with her as she stopped to remove her shoes and dangle her feet over the edge of a large fountain... only minutes before a security guard yelled at them to move along._

_"Oh my god, a chapel! 'Gooooing to the chapel, and we're gonna get maaaaarried!'"_

_Bellamy had just reached out to steady the spinning Clarke, "You just have a song for everything, don't you, princess."_

_Clarke snorted, "Princess?"_

_Bellamy shrugged, "You look like a princess in that dress."_

_Clarke rolled her body into his, "Wanna be my prince?" Her eyes glittered with adventure and a mischievous smile had formed across her face._

_Bellamy vaguely remembered thinking it over-- he was was already gone the moment he had met this girl._

Clarke stumbled out of the cab at her hotel-- just as Raven was unloading her bag from the back of her own yellow sedan.

"Oh my GOD. Clarke? What the hell."

Clarke was a hot mess, and she just grabbed Raven's wrist and pulled her towards the elevator, refusing to say anything until they had reached their room. As soon as the door clicked closed Clarke blurted it all out-- "I got married last night."

Raven's jaw dropped right along with the bag she had had slung over her shoulder-- hitting the floor with a thump. "No. No you did not."

Clarke haughtily held up her left hand and pointed forcefully at the small gold band on her ring finger. Raven rushed forward, grabbing Clarke's hand.

"What-- how-- who?!"

Clarke pulled her hands away, burying her face in them-- before telling Raven the whole thing.

"Oh my god," she said in awe.

"I _know,_ " Clarke moaned. "What do I do?!"

Raven narrowed her eyes at her best friend, "Um... obviously let me meet him?"

This time _Clarke's_ jaw was the one dropping.

+

A few hours later, Clarke had pulled herself together the best she could and texted Bellamy to meet her at the cafe down the street from her hotel so they could try and figure this out. He showed up on time, dark jeans and a navy henley. _Damn it._

She and Raven had been sitting at a table on the patio of the cafe, and as Bellamy came into view, Raven actually lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose in slow motion. She mouthed another 'oh my god' at Clarke as he reached the table.

"Hi, I'm Bellamy, Clarke's husband. You must be Raven!" he said (way too chipper, considering the events that had transpired).

"Oh yes." Raven was nodding in approval. _"Oh yes."_

Bellamy eyed Clarke, smiling as Raven continued to shake his hand as her eyes raked up and down his body.

"Please, sit, Bellamy." Clarke motioned to the empty chair. All three of them ordered and Clarke and Bellamy talked about where to go next.

“So, obviously, we have to get a lawyer.”

“Why would we need to do that?” Bellamy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Um… because we don’t even know each other and we just got married in Vegas?”

“I vaguely remember us getting to know each other last night.” Bellamy smiled smugly, and Clarke let out an antagonized gasp.

“Look here,” Bellamy set a small pile of papers clipped together on the table-- one was a marriage certificate and the other a certificate for some big prize from the casino. “Apparently, we won an all-inclusive honeymoon to the island of our choice. Two weeks-- no expenses, winners had to be married or engaged couples. So, from my point of view-- you've got two choices: give me a chance and go on this honeymoon, or we get a quick annulment, divorce, whatever-- and we both miss out on a trip and a chance at something… I don’t know, _something_. And if by the end of the two weeks, you still think it’s a good idea to end it, we will-- no questions asked.”

“Are you kidding? Two weeks on an island… with a practical stranger?” Clarke was panicking, _but actually torn about the whole thing._

Bellamy coughed, “Not a complete stranger if you've seen me naked.”

Raven snorted, clearly amused by the whole situation.

Clarke clenched her fists, hissing through her teeth “Ggghyah!” A part of her was actually curious about the whole situation-- this was the kind of thing that happened in movies, not to her. Clearly they were attracted to each other, and clearly there was some sort of chemistry.

“I just-- we can’t-- you… ugh.” Clarke sighed.

Raven just reclined back, smugly watching the newly married couple bicker and banter like, well, like an old married couple.

Bellamy gave her a hopeful look.

Resigning, Clarke shook her head with a small smile, “Okay. Why the hell not?”

A wide grin spread across Bellamy’s face as he gazed back at Clarke.

"Mmhm, you two will make very attractive babies," Raven nodded, not realizing she had said it out loud.

Clarke's fork clanked against her plate as she shot a look at the dark haired girl to her left.

"What?" Raven shrugged as Bellamy laughed.

Bellamy leaned over the table, “Well, it looks like we have some packing to do, Mrs. Blake.”

“I’m keeping my maiden name, bub.”

Bellamy gave an amused look, “Hyphenate?”

“How about we see how this trip goes before decided on those kind of details.

Bellamy sat back with a smile and crossed his arms, “Deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, many thanks to my dear [rachel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalrachelieu) \-- who you should all follow and adore, for editing my shite work despite being incredibly busy.
> 
> please, please, let me know what you think, i've got some fun surprises ahead. much love my bellarke bbs.


	6. check-in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the honeymoon begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry for the delay in updates-- again. writers block seems to hit me hard after every minuscule advancement i make. i was travelling recently and sometimes that really helps get my juices flowing.
> 
> please enjoy, and if you DO enjoy, please leave me a little something something, as encouragement is always appreciated.

Clarke flopped backward on her bed, clothes scattered around her and strewn across the room. The door opened and Clarke closed her eyes, “Don’t--”

“Clarke, your flight is in four hours! What are you doing!?” Raven bent over to scoop up the pile of shirts blocking the entrance to the room. Clarke moaned and brought her hands to her eyes. “Clarke!” Raven balled up an article of clothing and threw it at her best friend.

In the week that followed the _Vegas Incident_ , Clarke had managed to talk the hospital into letting her use up some of the leave she had saved up so she could take this _honeymoon_. She and Raven had finished their girls trip-- Clarke avoiding all topics that led to Bellamy and Raven doing her best to lead the conversation to Bellamy. Clarke landed at Dulles that day after her seminar and the moment she turned on her phone, it exploded with notifications from Bellamy.

_Let me know you get in safely, Princess. - B_

_Also, how do you feel about couples massages? - B_

_Can't wait to see you next week, my beautiful wife. - B_

She hadn't replied to any of them, even when he continued to send hourly texts asking her questions and random nonsensical statements.

_Are you bringing any dresses? What colors, I want to match. - B_

_One time a buddy of mine got his watch caught in a radiator in an old motel, I hope our room isn't too sketchy. - B_

_What is your favorite flower? - B_

_What is your favorite color? - B_

_Have you ever had hibachi? - B_

_Three more days! xo - B_

_I got my ring polished and resized. - B_

And now the day had arrived and the only thing Clarke had in her suitcase was underwear.

"That's really all you need, I guess."

"Ray!" Clarke threw her pillow towards the snarky girl. "Argh! Help me. I'm supposed to meet Bellamy at the airport in an hour!"

Raven nodded, "Okay. Black bathing suit. That dress you bought for my cousin's wedding last summer, the one with the straps." She picked through the pile that had been sitting in front of the door, quickly rolling and tucking them into Clarke's new polka dotted suitcase. (After the luggage incident, she had set out to buy a much more distinguishable set of luggage.) Raven instructed Clarke to gather her toiletries while she pulled something wrapped from her purse, and slipped it into the bag.

"You have your passport?" Raven called to Clarke, who was still bumbling about in the bathroom.

"Yeah, it's in my purse on the nightstand."

"Condoms?"

Clarke poked her head into the doorway, sending daggers at Raven.

"What? What is it that the boy scouts say? Always be prepared?" A smug grin crept onto her face.

Clarke stalked back to the bed where the suitcase laid open, now full of the clothes Raven had tucked into it, and nestled her toiletries bag on top. With an anxious sigh, Clarke closed the suitcase.

"Okay, I guess that's that, huh."

"Hey," Raven grabbed Clarke's wrist. "If you aren't ready for this, just tell him. He isn't going to do something you aren't comfortable with."

"How would you know?" Clarke narrowed her eyes at her best friend, shifting so that she was holding Ravens arm.

"Uh, I may or may not have been texting with him all week?" She smiled cheekily as she tugged away from Clarke's death grip

"What?!" Clarke breathed.

"I'm sorry! He just had a bunch of questions, and you weren't answering his messages and he just wants this to go smoothly-- he means well, really!"

Clarke closed her eyes and let out a steadying breath. Raven stepped back and enveloped Clarke into a hug. "I love you, Griff."

"Love you, too, Ray."

Raven gave her a tight squeeze, "Let's get you to the airport."

+

Raven said goodbye in front of the terminal.

Clarke headed through the automatic doors with her suitcase trailing behind her.

Bellamy Blake was standing in front of the airline desk on his phone, the light playing across his freckles as he talked. Clarke took in a big gulp of air and straightened as she headed to her husband with faux confidence. Bellamy saw her mid-sentence and smiled. He muttered an 'I gotta go.' into the phone before hanging up. Turning to face Clarke, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Didn't know if you'd show."

"I'm sure Raven promised you she'd get me out the door."

Bellamy let out small laugh, "That she did."

Clarke shook her head, blushing as she stood there-- vulnerable.

"You look great."

"Thanks."

"Ehem, we just need to check-in and head through security. You ready?"

She nodded in response, as Bellamy guided her toward the gate with a hand on her lower back. Clarke shivered-- there was something timid and intimate about it.

+

They had been sat in first class as a part of the trip package, which was a first for Clarke; there were larger chairs (definitely more comfortable) and they were brought complimentary champagne. She had to admit she was enjoying herself so far.

"Careful, princess, remember the last time you drank around me. Apparently _I_ become irresistible and _you_ become inclined to get married." Bellamy nudged her with a smug look on his face. Clarke rolled her eyes, trying to hide her amusement.

She was partly conflicted. She didn't have a place in her life right now for a relationship, let alone a _husband_. She did _not_ need this. But he was charming, and handsome, and... well, he was here-- on a honeymoon with a practical stranger, trying to make it work because of some minuscule connection they had found in a matter of two days.

They sat in comfortable silence during take-off, but they couldn't _not_ talk for the six hour flight they had ahead of them. Finally Clarke turned to Bellamy, hesitating to start a conversation. She opened her mouth just as Bellamy cut her off.

"So, Mrs. Blake. If this is going to work, I suppose we should at least try to get to know each other."

Clarke indulged, "You're right, Mr. Blake."

Bellamy, surprised at the lack of protest against the title, smiled. "When is your birthday?"

"November seventeenth, and yours?"

"June twenty-third."

"That's next week," Clarke noted.

Bellamy nodded, "I guess we have two occasions to celebrate then. Our two-week anniversary and my birthday. Unfortunately, I'm not part of the under-thirty club like you are."

"Oh god, I didn't marry a senior citizen, did I?"

Bellamy laughed, "No, I am thirty-two. Well, almost thirty-three."

"Ah, okay. Well, you just let me know if you need to take a break on this trip. I know the knee joints can really start to deteriorate with old age."

Bellamy snorted a little, trying to keep the champagne he had just taken a sip of in his mouth.

"So, you never answered any of my messages this week, but I was able to extract a few things out of Raven."

"That traitor, what did she tell you?"

"Your favorite color is blue; you love daisies and you had a dog named Oppenheimer that died when you were thirteen; you were the valedictorian in high school-- even graduating early; you've never broken a bone; you had braces, and one time you got gum stuck in your hair and had to chop it off all short like a boy."

Clarke cocked her head. She had to give it to him, he was thorough.

"So now," he started, "tell me something I _don't_ know about you."

Clarke hummed, "Hmm... I've had my heart broken more times than I'd like to admit; I failed my first anatomy test in college; I don't chew gum any more; I live in a house that I inherited from my grandparents after they moved into a retirement center, and my dad passed away from cancer about five years ago."

Bellamy softened a little, he hadn't really expected her to give him anything _real_ right off the bat. "I'm sorry to hear about your dad."

Clearing her throat, Clarke shifted in her seat, "And what about you, superstar-- who is Bellamy Blake?"

Bellamy shrugged slightly, "I don't know. It's just me and my sister. You already know I grew up not knowing my father. Mom died when I was eighteen, I didn't end up working as a deputy in a small town sheriff station to support us until I could afford to go to the academy-- and I learned that hard work will get you to a lot of places. I eventually worked my way up the ranks, I have my own unit and everything now. I was able to get Octavia through college on my salary, and that was what really mattered. She still lives close to me in Baltimore-- married with two kids."

"Sounds like you raised her up well," Clarke smiled, "I'd like to meet her _someday_." Someday? Clarke mentally smacked herself in the head. _Are you planning on this working out?_

"She'd like you-- she, too, has a propensity for dancing on tables." He sniggered.

Clarke punched him playfully in the arm, shaking her head.

"I, uh, I think I'm going to watch a movie." Clarke began to pull her headphones from her bag.

"Mind if I join?" Bellamy asked hopefully. Clarke nodded with a smile, and they both coordinated their screens to the same romantic comedy that _Bellamy_ picked out. About halfway through the movie, Clarke fell asleep, and Bellamy was unable to pull his eyes away from her sleeping figure.

+

The rest of the flight was _somewhat_ uneventful. Bellamy teased Clarke about drooling on his shoulder, and then Bellamy managed to get stuck in the lavatory, causing the flight attendant to pry open the door. _Karma_ , Clarke thought.

They were picked up from the airport by a driver holding a sign that read _The Griffin-Blakes_. Clarke smiled to herself.

At every door, Bellamy was there to open it before Clarke was even able to reach her hand out to try. He made sure she never carried her own bags. Clarke was having a hard time seeing how this could be a bad thing.

The driver pulled into a long driveway that led up to a swanky private resort. Bellamy watched as Clarke's eyes grew wide like a small child in a candy store. They were checked in upon arrival and brought to the fourth floor, the concierge opening the door up to a large room overlooking the water.

"Please enjoy your stay, sir and madam. My name is Wick, if you need anything at all." He tipped his head and backed away, leaving the newlyweds alone in the suite. Clarke walked to the sliding doors and made her way out to the balcony. She leaned against the railing as a gentle breeze swirled around her. Bellamy appeared next to her, looking out to the beach as the sun was setting on the horizon-- there was a small strip of private shoreline behind the resort for the guests.

Clarke took in a deep breath, "So, what's on our schedule for tomorrow?" She asked, finally turning to look at him.

His dark eyes met her watery blue ones, "A tour of the island in the early afternoon, and we have dinner reservations at _The Phoenix_ at seven."

Clarke nodded just as a small knocking came from the door. Bellamy turned on his heels to retreat inside to the door.

"Hello again, Mr. Blake, sorry to disturb you, but the manager would like to offer you and Mrs. Blake a bottle of our finest champagne." The concierge moved to reveal a small cart with a bucket and bottle nestled into the ice, along with a small plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

"Please pass on our gratitude to the manager, Wick. And thank you!" He allowed the man to wheel the cart into the suite and shook his hand in return. Closing the door behind him, Bellamy called out to Clarke, who was hovering in the doorway.

"Fancy a drink, princess?"

 _What could it hurt?_ She thought.

An hour later, they were sprawled out on the floor, only a plate of stray pieces of chocolate sat between them. The bottle of champagne was nearly empty and Clarke was giggling at the story Bellamy had just told about his promotion to Detective and how all the guys on his team had bought him the _same_ tie. Clark sat cross-legged as Bellamy faced her, resting against the foot of the bed, elbows on knees with his glass in his hand. He leaned forward, silence hanging between them as Clarke felt a flush creep into her cheeks, their lips just centimeters apart.

Her eyes flicked from his lips down to her hands as she cleared her throat, "I, uh, I'm going to get some air." She scrambled to her feet, leaving Bellamy hanging in the space below her. She slipped on her shoes, grabbing her bag and a room key before hurrying out the door. She reached the lobby where she was greeted by _'Good evening Mrs. Blake'_ and she responded curtly until she was out of the building, the damp evening air hitting her face that was still on fire. The sun hadn't fallen completely, and there were small pathways lit by glowing lamps on either side, and she followed one until she arrived at the entrance of the private beach area.

She slid out of her shoes, gathering them in her hand and stepping onto the beach. Her toes dug down into the cool sand, and she glided down toward the water. Clarke reached the edge of the water, setting her feet just close enough to allow the small waves to lap against her skin. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salty summer air.

Bellamy stood on the balcony, watching the woman stand on the shore. His mouth was dry from the champagne and the laughter, and he felt flush from the close proximity they had just been in. He was so unsure how to read the situation. Was he serious about it? Was he just hoping for fun-- playing a game? He suddenly felt the exhaustion from the day of travel, his body protesting at the act of remaining on his feet. He unpacked a few things from his bag and got ready for bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before brushing his teeth. He pulled one of the pillows from the king-sized bed that faced the window and threw it onto the small couch on the adjoining wall. He found an extra blanket in the closet close to the door and flopped down onto the cushion, squirming around until he found a comfortable enough position. Eyes heavy, he fell asleep minutes after his head hit the pillow.

Clarke came back to the room to find Bellamy sprawled out on the couch, limbs hanging off the side and draped over the arm. Her heart dropped a little, she knew she had rushed out of there-- weary of her intense rush of feelings, or _whatever those were_. She tiptoed around the room, hanging up the dresses Raven had packed and digging out her bathroom supplies.

As she pulled out her sleep pants, a small wrapped item fell to her feet. She picked it up gingerly, inspecting the foreign object. She pulled at the small piece of tape holding the paper together, unwrapping it to reveal a rather scandalous piece of lingerie. _Raven._ She shook her head, trying not to smile. Raven had always been such a sneak. As she looked back down into her bag, she noticed a value-size box of condoms and a small note.

_Don't be afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve a little, or maybe just wear this. Love you, Griff. - Ray_

Clarke looked at the lacy black garment again, blushing at the thought of wearing that for anyone, let alone Bellamy Blake. She pulled out the drawer next to the bed, stuffing the garment and the box of condoms in first, before piling in the rest of her tank tops in to cover them up. She grabbed her modest pajamas and bathroom bag, and quietly closed the bathroom door behind her.

They slept apart on the first night of their honeymoon, but Clarke didn't sleep very much, twisting and turning in such a large, empty bed. Finally, at quarter to five, she dragged herself from bed-- Bellamy still a pretzel of limbs twisted into the blanket on the couch. She dialed the front desk and inquired about coffee. A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed in the quiet room. She quietly thanked the attendant and poured herself a mug, stepping out onto the porch.

She waited out there until a haze of orange and red surfaced on the horizon. The world was coming alive below her-- birds chirping and insects buzzing about. She was so engaged she hadn't heard Bellamy slip from bed and appear at her side. His eyes were puffy from sleep and his hair disheveled. She tried not to stare at the placement of his sweatpants on his hips, a small trail of hair disappearing below the waistband.    

"Good-morning." His voice was still thick with sleep.

Clarke turned to give him a small smile, "You didn't have to sleep on the couch last night."

Bellamy looked down, "Yeah, I know. I just didn't want to force you into anything that would make you uncomfortable."

Clarke stepped closer and leaned up to give Bellamy a soft kiss on the cheek, faces lingering close for a small moment.

"Maybe we'll work our way there." She whispered before lowering back onto her heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on tumblr >a href="http://nathenmiller.tumblr.com">here!


	7. the layover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clarke doesn't have room in her life for a husband, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, my babies, I am dreadfully sorry to report that... this story is now rated M-- I hope that makes up for the fact that it's been almost 6 weeks since I last updated. please forgive me.

"What's your favorite family vacation you've ever been on?" Clarke tapped her fingers on the table as they sat waiting for their tour guide.

"Well, I was fairly young the last time we were a whole family-- mom, dad, Octavia and I. But I do remember when I was about seven or eight, Octavia was still really small. We took a trip to the Baltimore Aquarium. I had a silly baseball cap that looked like a shark fin and I had memorized all these facts about sharks, trying to impress no one in particular-- the Aquarium workers, maybe?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I was such a little snot-- I think I got really worried at some point in the day that Octavia couldn't see the sting rays from her stroller, so while mom was talking to the exhibit guide I pulled her out and held her up to the glass-- I nearly dropped her, and mom was _not_ happy. But dad just laughed about it. I still remember it being one of my favorite days. Dad was gone a few months later."

Clarke had propped her elbows on the table, chin resting on her open palms. Bellamy's eyes had darkened, ending the story on a somber note.

"Have you ever tried tracking him down?"

"After mom died, I tried to find him to let him know and invite him to the funeral, but there was no trace. I tried again, after Octavia got engaged. I think Octavia would rather have me walking her down the aisle anyways, it was always just me and her. It's tempting to try again, now that I have all these resources at my fingertips, being a cop-- but sometimes I think it might be better off left alone."

"Mr. and Mrs. Blake?!" A peppy voice cut through their conversation.

"Griffin-Blakes," Clarke retorted. Bellamy rolled his eyes, chuckling at the confused look on the tour guides face.

"Okay, then... well, I'm Myles. I am going to be your tour guide today across this beautiful oasis. Are you two lovebirds ready?" Bellamy snorted again and Clarke punched him in the arm.

"Careful, _honey_ , otherwise I won't be able to do that _thing you like._ "

A mortified look spread across Clarke's face as Myles stood there awkwardly, waiting for the odd couple to follow him to the trolley. Bellamy made a sweeping motion with his arms as he stood, waiting for Clarke to follow suit. Clarke got up slowly, flattening out the creases in her sundress. "Alright, _darling_ , you got it!" She added with a peppy punch, landing it on the same spot she had previously struck.

+

The afternoon consisted of an open trolley drive around the island, and Myles was full of "fun" facts about the plants and animal life. Bellamy was actually really interested in the history of the native people and he listened intently as Myles discussed the traditions and rituals that they continued to practice even today.

"You actually will have the chance to observe one of their events later this week, if you so choose," Myles added.

"That would be awesome."

" _Nerd._ " Clarke whispered-- Bellamy tried to hide his smile.

They arrived back at the resort with only a few hours left before their dinner reservation. As they reached the room, Clarke had already settled on the idea of going down to the beach.

"You wanna come?" She offered.

Bellamy smiled, "Absolutely."

Clarke opened up one of her drawers, procuring her suit and a cover-up, then retreated to the bathroom to change. When she emerged, Bellamy had changed as well and he was slathering sunscreen on his bare chest. _He really needs to stop taking his shirt off._

_Oh._

"What was that?"

_Apparently she had said that out loud._

"Oh... I, uh, forgot to pack sunscreen," she covered.

Bellamy held up the bottle he was using, "I've got plenty. Need some help?"

"Um, I think I can manage."

"Suit yourself."

+

Clarke did _not_ manage.When they returned to the room after a couple of hours in the sun to get ready for dinner, Clarke's back (and only her back) was a bright shade of red and Bellamy tried to hide his laughter.

"I can help you with the aloe... unless you think you can manage that too." Bellamy teased Clarke as she finished with her shower.

Clarke's face turned the color of her back as she reluctantly handed him a bottle of aloe, allowing him to lather the green goo onto her burn. His calloused hands were rough at first, as he began to work her shoulders. She closed her eyes as Bellamy continued the massage, almost forgetting that he was only supposed to be rubbing aloe on her sunburn. She was slumped back, body melting under the pressure against her overly tense shoulders.

The heat radiated from her as Bellamy’s cheek leaned into Clarke’s hair, his breath on her neck sending a shiver down her spine. She squirmed underneath him, her breathing becoming uneven. Bellamy’s hands slid down the material of her dress, ghosting along the soft curves of her hips. Clarke leaned her weight back into him, turning her face slightly to meet his-- the skin of her cheek brushing against his lips.

“We-- uh, should...” she breathed.

“Yeah, our reservation is in an hour…”

“Wouldn’t want to miss...” Clarke was having a hard time finishing her sentences.

There was a sudden clanging coming from the hallway-- possibly a room service delivery for another room, and Clarke practically jumped away from Bellamy. She turned and smiled softly at him as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, so… dinner,” he laughed.

“Dinner,” Clarke smiled, still slightly out of breath.

They danced around each other for the next forty-five minutes; Clarke drying her hair and dabbing on a bit of makeup; Bellamy dressing himself and trying to decide on a tie.

There were four ties laid out on the bed as Bellamy hovered over them, arms crossed against his chest. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as Clarke came out of the bathroom, putting her earrings in. She appeared at his side as his eyes moved from one tie to the next. She bent over and grabbed a royal blue tie, Bellamy turned towards her as she lifted it over his head and settled it under his collar.

"Stop fidgeting." Clarke muttered as she tried to tighten the knot and wiggled it until it was perfectly straight.

Bellamy batted her hand away playfully and Clarke held her hands up in surrender, then turned to check her phone as he loosened it slightly and gave his reflection in the mirror above the bureau a self-satisfied smile.

“We’d better get going, Bell,” Clarke felt a pang in her stomach when she said his name like that-- it felt too intimate.

“Alright,” he moved to the door, a hand ghosting at the small of her back as he guided her out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

+

“Can I get you something to drink to start?”

Bellamy nodded at the waiter, “Yes, I’ll have whatever beer is on tap, and Clarke?”

Clarke was still looking, “I think I’ll go with the Moscato.” She closed the menu and handed it to the waiter with a smile on her face.

The waiter disappeared and Clarke leaned against the table-- Bellamy enjoying the view.

They made small talk about the restaurant and how they must be trying to save on their electricity with how low they kept their lighting. The waiter returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order food.

“Does this pasta dish have mushrooms in it?” Clarke asked.

“Hm, I believe the sauce does, but I can inquire with the chef.”

“No, that’s alright, I think I’ll go with the risotto instead.”

“And, I’ll have the steak and vegetable of the day,” Bellamy followed.

“And how would you like that prepared, sir?”

“Well done, please.”

They were alone again and Bellamy raised an eyebrow, “What’s with the mushrooms?”

“I’m allergic,” she stated plainly before taking a large swig of her drink.

Bellamy hummed, “I guess I’m learning something new everyday.”

Clarke smiled, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Um, I’m slightly lactose intolerant-- and kiwis make my mouth fuzzy.”

Clarke laughed, she felt lighter now-- the wine working it's magic quickly. They continued to talk about allergies and weird food preferences-- Clarke was appalled that Bellamy had never eaten peanut butter and oreos before. Their food arrived fairly quickly, along with another round of drinks and their conversation lulled a little while they ate.

When asked if they desired dessert, Clarke smiled and said, “No thank you, we’ve got other plans.”

Bellamy tilted his head in confusion but Clarke just smiled slyly. They paid the check and hailed a cab, Clarke whispering something to the driver before hopping in the back-- scooting close towards the middle of the row so their arms brushed against each other.

“Where are we going?”

Clarke just shushed him as the cab came to a stop, “Wait here!”she yelled as she pulled herself from the seat and ran into the small grocery store they were sitting in front of-- Bellamy just shook his head and  laughed as he watched Clarke skip to the door.

Ten minutes later, she finally returned with a small plastic bag and told the cab driver the address of the resort, and they continued their journey.

Bellamy reached out to peak in the bag and Clarke smacked his hands away playfully, “You wait.”

He held his hands up in a mock surrender and Clarke reached up to loop a hand through his elbow and tucked herself in close-- Bellamy smiled to himself, heart beating a little faster.

They pulled into the long drive of the resort and they paid the cabdriver, and Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand and pulled him toward the path that led to the private beach area. They stopped briefly to toe off their shoes, leaving them at the gate and Clarke continued to drag Bellamy down the beach.

She finally plopped down on to the sand and tugged at Bellamy’s wrist to join her.

He huffed playfully and joined her, sitting cross-legged as he faced her.

“Okay,” she started.

“Okay,” Bellamy countered.

Clarke had a goofy grin and Bellamy was enamored as he watched her pull out a jar of peanut butter and a package of Double-Stuff Oreos from her plastic grocery bag.

“Ha!” Bellamy chortled.

“No, seriously! You have to try this-- I am making you try this,” Clarke said matter-of-factly.

She unscrewed the jar, peeling the seal away and retrieved a cookie from the sleeve-- carefully she dipped the cookie into the peanut butter and came away with a gooey clump of deliciousness, _at least that’s what she called it._

She stared at him as he tried to avoid getting peanut butter all over his chin, “Mmm,” he mumbled, nodding. Clarke’s face lit up and she turned her gaze to the ocean lapping gently onto the shore, a playful glint in her eye.

"What are you thinking, Clarke?" Bellamy asked.

"Hm, nothing," she said wistfully, "only that I've never swam in the ocean at night before."

"Oh?" Bellamy quirked his eyebrow.

Then Clarke stood up, unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, she then took off running toward the ocean in just her undergarments.

Bellamy laughed and stumbled to his feet to follow, discarding items as he ran. He reached the edge of the water and Clarke was already splashing around, waist deep in the salty water. She waved at him, beckoning him to join her.

He shimmied out of his pants and stepped into the water, which wasn't as cold as he was anticipating. He waded out to Clarke, who was staring out at the ocean and she bobbed a little in the waves. She was all tan skin and tangled hair now as Bellamy swayed next to her.

"It's so big," she whispered.

"Mhm," Bellamy hummed, stealing a look at her out of the corner of his eye.

"So peaceful-- beautiful."

"Absolutely," he said, looking fully at her now. The water was glistening on her skin, and he had the sudden urge to touch her-- to feel her under his arms, but he didn't want to push her or make her uncomfortable.

Clarke took a deep breath of salty air, "We should go back."

Bellamy nodded and turned back to the beach. He felt Clarke slip her hand into his as they fought the tide and staggered back onto the sand. Bellamy bent over to pick up his pants; shirt; tie; until they were back at the spot they had shared their peanut butter and oreo feast. Bellamy stopped to pull on his pants and Clarke stepped back into her dress, a slight shiver trickled through her body.

"Here," Bellamy draped his button-down over her shoulders, running his hands up and down her arms to warm her up.

She hummed and her fingers brushed against his as she moved to pull the shirt tighter around her body.

"Thanks," she breathed.

"Let's go," he wrapped an arm around her back, tucking her into his side as they wandered back to the resort.

They reached their room and a bottle of champagne was waiting inside the door with a note from the concierge.

_I hope you're enjoying your stay, please let us know if there is anything we can do to accommodate you further._

Bellamy held up the bottle and Clarke nodded, "Why not?"

Clarke had already stripped out of her dress again and had grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top from her drawer. She moved to the nightstand to grab a dry pair of underwear and pulled at a pair in the back-- causing the rather large box of condoms to tumble onto the floor.

Bellamy froze, bottle still in his hands-- his mouth dropping open.

"I-- these aren't-- I mean, Raven--" Clarke stuttered, face turning bright red.

Bellamy threw his head back in laughter as Clarke stood there, face plastered with embarrassment.

"What are you laughing about?!" She exclaimed.

Bellamy just continued to laugh and he closed the space between them. His hand threaded into her hair and he laid a hot kiss on her forehead.

"Go get dressed," he snorted.

Clarke whimpered and scurried off to the bathroom, leaning back against the door as she closed it behind her. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. _It's fine. You're fine._

Her hands were shaking a bit as she peel off the remaining wet layers and she towel dried her hair before pulling on her clothes. As she emerged from the bathroom, Bellamy had poured them both a glass and he, too, had changed into dry clothes. He grabbed their drinks and met her in the middle of the room.

"To dry clothes," he smirked.

Clarke shook her head, face still pink, "To dry clothes."

The glasses clinked together and Clarke took a sip-- the bubbly champagne tickling the back of her throat as it went down. She carried it over to the bed and climbed on, tucking her feet underneath her.

It was quiet between them for a few minutes as they both worked on their drinks-- Clarke's chin resting on her knee as Bellamy stared out the window.

"Hey, Bellamy..." her voice was almost inaudible.

"Hm?" Bellamy turned.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch," she bit the inside of her cheek, "if you don't want to."

Bellamy sauntered over and sat on the edge of the bed, still giving Clarke her space, "Are you sure?"

Clarke scooted closer to him as he pulled his own legs up on the bed-- their knees now touching. "I'm sure," she swallowed thickly.

"And want if I want to do this," Bellamy breathed, bringing his hand up to cup her face gently.

"I think that would be okay, too."

"Mm, and what about this," he leaned in, lips drifting close in the space between them-- she could feel his breath against her lips. "Would this be okay, too?"

"Uh-huh," she murmured.

"What about," his lips ghosted over hers, "this?" Then his mouth was pressed against hers, and Clarke squeezed her eyes shut as she fisted her hands into his shirt, dragging his body over hers as she fell back on the bed.

Bellamy was hovering over her, his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her as he rolled up her body. Clarke squirmed below him, her fingers struggling to find the hem of his shirt-- Bellamy's mouth pressing hot kisses along her collarbone.

She let out a breathy moan as he nipped at her pulse point and she finally found the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it until Bellamy pulled back and yanked his shirt over his head. Clarke had sat up and pulled her own tank top over her head and her hands returned to his chest, dragging her nails against his skin as Bellamy returned to kiss her, his tongue pressing against the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth to meet him, now snaking her hands up to card into his dark hair. She hitched her legs up against his hips and grounded into them, he let out a deep groan into her mouth.

She took the opportunity to flip them over and she straddled him as she reached back to unclasp her bra. Bellamy was breathing more ragged now as Clarke lowered her chest to his, her breasts pushing against his bare skin as she kissed down his abdomen-- hands ghosting over his tightened muscles and they made their way to his pants and worked to undo them.

Her hands were hot against _everything_ and Bellamy tipped his head back against the pillow, nerves on fire. Clarke had finally managed to pull everything off and saw that Bellamy was ready, but then Bellamy's hands were moving and he flipped her over and pinned her against the mattress, grinding down against Clarke-- their bare bodies now covered in a thin layer of sweat and pressed together in want and need.

"And what if I want to do this," he teased, his voice husky and thick.

"Ahh, uh-huh," Clarke whimpered, arching up into him-- begging.

He stopped, for a painfully slow moment, to grab the box of condoms still sitting by the bed and prepare one. After he had rolled it on, he positioned himself firmly between her legs and carefully nudged himself against her heat.

Clarke gasped and her head fell back in pleasure as Bellamy pushed himself in. When he felt her relax he set a slow but delicious pace and she pressed her forehead against his chest as their bodies moved in rhythm-- Bellamy watched as Clarke came undone beneath him and he followed shortly after her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am trash-- please visit me on [tumblr](http://nathenmiller.tumblr.com).


	8. engine failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY, this is an uber short chapter (comparatively) and i _know_ it's been like three months. i hope you will forgive me, and thanks for much for sticking this one out with me. i love you all.

Clarke was the first to stir the next morning as the sun filtered through the curtains into their suite. Bellamy was lying on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow and one arm slung across her hips, tucking her close. Her body hummed with a pleasant soreness as she stretched out slow, trying not to disturb Bellamy.

She was about to roll out from his embrace when his hand curled around her waist and pulled her back against him, and she felt his breath warm on the back of her neck.

“Where ya going?” he whispered, and pressed a kiss just below her ear.

Clarke shivered and twisted to face him, smiling sheepishly, “We have that cooking class at eleven.”

Bellamy leaned forward and bit her shoulder playfully, “I’d rather eat you out.”

Clarke swatted at him, face turning bright red, “Oh my god, Bellamy!”

He laughed and rolled so he was hovering over her, the sheets falling away. Clarke looked up at him expectantly and tucked her arms behind her head casually, cocking an eyebrow. Bellamy mirrored her expression before slowly lowering his mouth down to brush a kiss against the corner of her mouth, the dip in her chin, the base of her throat, the swell of her breasts; he traveled lower and lower until he nipped at her navel and Clarke could feel his breath hot between her legs.

In a matter of minutes Bellamy had her coming undone by the work of his tongue and she arched into him as the pleasure washed over her. Her body went limp as Bellamy came back to her mouth and Clarke could taste herself on him.

“Bastard,” she breathed.

He shrugged and rolled off the bed, swaggering to the bathroom, not bothering to close it behind him as he started the shower. Clarke stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what this meant. It was only the third day of this _honeymoon_ and she was already fucked.

They didn’t talk about what it meant, either. Did it mean that this thing was for real? Did it mean they felt something. Clarke wasn't sure if she was ready for that… if she couldn't handle it, but she was also enjoying herself too much to want to face the reality of it all.

Their honeymoon festivities carried on seamlessly. Bellamy feeding Clarke at their cooking class, wiping away remnants of food from her mouth with a kiss; holding hands at the traditional event they were allowed to observe with the island natives; making stupid faces at each other from across museum exhibits and laughing loudly enough to be approached by security.

They spent the next few days talking and kissing followed by ripping each other’s clothes off, followed by more talking… which ultimately led to more kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off.

He infuriated her with his constant unhealthy need to check the Orioles scores.

_“They play a hundred games a year, Bellamy, does it really matter if you miss a few?”_

And she drove him crazy by leaving her clothes and personal belongings strewn across their suite.

_“Clarke, I’m not a maid, can you at least throw your stuff in one corner, instead of around the entire damn hotel room?”_

They spent long afternoons on the beach and took baths in their en suite Jacuzzi tub with a view of the ocean. Clarke even tried on the little black number Raven had slipped into her suitcase.

_“Holy shit, Clarke,” he breathed._

_Clarke played coyly with the lace as she stood at the end of the bed, Bellamy leaning back against the headboard with dark eyes. She put on a little show, (because when in her life was she ever going to do something like this again?) and before she could finish he was clambering down the mattress and pulling her into his lap._

Only a few days remained on the trip and they were getting ready for their couples massage when Bellamy’s phone rang. They were running a few minutes late and Clarke was at the door nodding expectantly towards the hallway.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this,” he apologized, “Go ahead to the spa and I’ll meet you there.”

She lingered for a moment before slipping out into the hallway.

“Hello?” Bellamy questioned into the receiver.

_“Bellamy Blake?”_

“Yes, this is him. May I ask who’s calling?” Bellamy ran his fingers through his hair anxiously.

_“This is Mr. Lemkin, from the Phoenix Travel Trust.”_

Bellamy nodded to himself: the company that they won the honeymoon through.

“What can I do for you Mr. Lemkin?”

_“Well, we seem to be having an issue with your marriage certificate. We've been running some back checks, and it seems that the certificate was never legitimized.”_

Bellamy’s heart dropped, “What? What does that mean?”

 _“The chapel that issued your certificate claims that both parties were far too impaired to consent to the union, but that they insisted on the marriage anyways. It appears that the official humored you with a false certificate to appease the lady, who was, to quote the chapel minister ‘on her knees begging and singing_ 'I Will Always Love You _’_ ”

Bellamy wanted to laugh at the image of Clarke in that sparkly dress, sitting Celine Dion in the middle of a skeezy Vegas chapel.

“Okay…” Bellamy drawled, “So, what does that mean for us?” He heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line and his stomach churned.

_“Unfortunately, that means we will be required to end your trip early. The stipulations on the final prize were clear, engaged or married couples only, and it seems you and Ms. Griffin do not qualify.”_

Bellamy closed his eyes, clenching his fists as the man continued to speak.

_“You will not be required to repay any part of the trip taken part of initially, only the return flight. I am sorry that our legal department didn’t see to this mix up sooner, but it’s been quite a busy season for us. I hope you will accept our apologies for that, and I am sorry to end your trip so soon. You flight itinerary will be sent to the hotel, and the hotel manager will see that you are taken care of.”_

“Oh, okay,” Bellamy didn’t know quite what else to say.

_“Thank you for your time, Mr. Blake, and I wish you the best in your future endeavors.”_

The phone clicked and Bellamy let out a shaky breath, future endeavors.

This meant that he and Clarke weren't _actually_ married. What was he supposed to tell her? _How_ was he supposed to tell her?

“Fuck,” he seethed.

He found his way to the resort spa, and he was led to a room where Clarke’s massage had already begun. She was laying on her back and tipped her head up to give him a smile when she heard him enter the room. His chest felt like someone had laid a twenty pound barbell on it.

Bellamy took one look at her and knew he was already gone. He was in love with her. It had only been a few weeks and a false marriage, but _goddamn it_ if she didn’t make him feel things he’d never felt before.

It took everything he had to try and relax during his own massage, knowing the next time he passed through the lobby and the front desk that their flight schedule would be waiting for them. Bellamy would have to tell her, and this whole _marriage_ would come to an end. Clarke wouldn't have a reason to stick around now that it was all coming undone.

Tomorrow they’d be on a plane back home, and he didn’t know if he was ready to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [join me while i cry tears of blood](http://nathenmiller.tumblr.com)


	9. disembark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @me wHOA TWO UPDATES IN ONE WEEK. i know, i'm on a roll.  
> it's still shorter than i normally like to update, buuuuut, we're wrapping up SO soon.
> 
> this has been such a fun ride. but here's a little more angst for you.

Clarke was in the shower and Bellamy was sitting on the end of their bed, head in his hands. He’d run down to the front desk and inquired about their paperwork: they were set to fly out tomorrow at 10 AM.

It was already after seven and he hadn't figured out a way to tell her. God, he didn’t want to tell her. Bellamy heard the faucet shut off and Clarke was humming as she emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel, barely covering the curve of her ass.

“So, I was thinking,” Clarke started, rummaging through a drawer with her back to Bellamy, “when we get back, we should set up a time to visit Octavia and her family.” She grabbed whatever she was looking for and turned, “I bet I can get a few more days--” She stopped when she saw Bellamy’s face.

She dropped her clothes, brows furrowed with concern. Gliding towards him, she settled herself between his thighs. Clarke knelt down and pressed a hand to his cheek, her skin still soft from her shower. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Bellamy tensed beneath the soft graze of her fingers against his jaw, “I-I just got some news.”

“News? What kind of news? Was it Octavia, is she okay?” Clarke cupped his face, searching his eyes for some kind of clue.

“No, no, Octavia’s fine,” Bellamy swallowed, “It’s just…”

“Just what? What is it, Bellamy?” Clarke frowned, unable to read him.

Bellamy dropped his gaze, staring down between them. Clarke felt a shift in the air and she stepped back from him, securing the towel wrapped around her body, “Bellamy, talk to me.”

His pulled his eyes up, they were clouded with emotion, “The manager from the travel company called and said there were some legal issues with our marriage certificate.”

Clarke cocked her head, “Legal issues?”

“Turns out we’re not actually married,” he spit out, words tasting sour as they left his mouth.

The creases in her brow deepened as she stumbled backwards another step, “Not… actually married? H-how does that work?”

Bellamy tried to clear his throat, only to have his breath hitch slightly, “Uh, apparently our state of inebriation did not constitute a legal consent to marriage, so the chapel official refused us the ceremony. However,” he caught himself with a soft smile, “you were on your knees singing Celine Dion for like twenty minutes straight, so the official appears to have humored us with a certificate.”

Bellamy’s chest ached at the look on Clarke’s face, “So you mean, we just woke up with these,” she waved her hand shakily, “rings on our fingers and some fake-ass certificate and we _assumed_ we were married.”

“How the hell was I supposed to think any different?” Bellamy exhaled.

“I-I don’t know,” Clarke’s lip quivered. It was quiet for a moment, the air thick around them. “So, we’re not married?” Her voice was quiet and she chewed anxiously on the inside of her cheek.

Bellamy thought she almost sounded disappointed, but he shook his head in response.

Clarke grasped at the knot of her towel, holding it against her body as she tried to ground herself.

“So, now what?”

Bellamy shrugged, defeated, “We have to fly back tomorrow morning.”

Clarke nodded in acknowledgment. Shifting her weight, she twisted her mouth, “You should take your shower now.”

Their eyes kept meeting for brief seconds before flicking away to look at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but lingering on each other. “Yeah, okay,” he croaked, rising to his feet.

He shuffled towards the bathroom, pausing just a step past where Clarke stood. Their backs were to each other and Bellamy turned his head slightly, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Clarke felt an unexpected wetness well up in her eyes, and she waited until she heard the door click to wipe the tears away furiously. She didn’t understand why she felt this way: from the beginning, she had told herself that she didn’t have room in her life for a relationship-- _a marriage_. And now? Now she wasn't sure.

She retrieved the clothes she had dropped on the floor and pulled them on somberly. Digging through her purse, she procured her cell phone and hit the first number on her favorites list.

It rang three times before Raven picked up.

_“Clarke, babe!”_

Clarke couldn't help but smile at Raven’s enthusiasm.

“Hey.” There was no hiding the tone of her voice.

_“Whoa, hey. What happened? Do I need to punch him in the dick?”_

Clarke bit back tears as she explained to Raven what happened.

 _“So, you’re not married…”_ she offered, _“that_ is _what you wanted, isn’t it?”_

“I-- yes, but--”

_“So you move on, you made memories, had fun… right?”_

Silence.

_“Unless…”_

Silence.

_“Unless… Clarke, are you in love with him?”_

“What?!” she scoffed, “N-no, I’m not--” _Oh shit._ “I’m…”

 _“Clarke Griffin, you have to say something!”_ Raven tittered.

Clarke was so wrapped up on the phone, she didn’t realized the faucet had shut off.

“I can’t-- it’s not, ugh, it doesn't matter,” she said frustratedly, “I’m a doctor from DC, he’s a Detective from Baltimore. We’re from two different worlds.”

 _“Not that different,”_ Raven countered pointedly.

The bathroom door creaked open, but Clarke kept talking, “What am I supposed to do. I’m not going to uproot my life and give up my career and life to be someone’s wife--”

 _“Nobody said--”_ she interjected defensively.

“It’s better this way, it was never going to work. It never could,” Clarke said with finality.

Bellamy felt his chest tighten, _of course it would never work. Who was he kidding?_

He swung the door open a little louder, interrupting their conversation.

“I’ve gotta go, Rae, I’ll see you when I get home,” she ended the call quickly.

Bellamy moved loudly around the room as Clarke busied herself. She was pulling things from the drawer beside the bed and throwing them into the suitcase on the floor. Her heart stuttered as she came upon the black lacy number and she tucked it beneath a myriad of other items so she didn’t think about the way Bellamy’s eyes darkened with desire, or the way his fingers felt as they palmed through the lacy cup covering her breast. She didn’t think about it. _She didn’t._

They didn’t speak much as their suitcases began to fill, and Clarke pulled the zipper on her bag forcefully as she finished. Bellamy was already lying in bed, on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Clarke wanted nothing more than to curl into his side and turn the television on to the channel that only played movies in French and make up fake dialogue with Bellamy as his fingers brushed against her spine. But instead, she pulled back the covers and slipped under them silently, hugging the edge of the bed as closely as possibly.

With a final wistful glance over at Bellamy, she switched off the lamp on her nightstand, even though it was only nine o’clock. Clarke shivered at the distance between their bodies, suddenly unused to the idea of sleeping without Bellamy as her own personal heater.

Sleep came fitfully, both painfully aware of the other’s presence in the bed, but doing everything in their power not to touch. Bellamy even went so far as to shove a pillow between them as he rolled onto his stomach in an attempt to get comfortable.

The next morning, the silence was even louder than before. The concierge was polite, and a cab was waiting for them outside the main lobby. Clarke muttered a soft, _‘thank you’_ when Bellamy took her bag from her, hauling it up to drop in the trunk of the taxi.

Their ride to the airport was quiet.

Sitting together at their gate was quiet.

Their entire flight was quiet.

Raven met them at the airport, and she shared an odd, knowing look with Bellamy before gathering Clarke up in her arms and guiding her to the baggage claim.

Bellamy hung back and waited for his bag on the opposite side of the conveyor belt from the girls, and wordlessly picked up. He left without a goodbye. Raven stole a look while Clarke dug something out of her purse, and Bellamy gave her a short nod before disappearing into the crowd.

**Just like that, it was over.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [xoxo](http://nathenmiller.tumblrcom)  
>  please leave me reviews, and not just 'omG UPDATE' [those are frustrating]  
> you guys are my life blood.  
> i love you & thanks for reading!


	10. smooth landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay y’all, here’s some a teensy bit of angst and then fluffy fluff fluff to to ease the angst i put you through. this is the ‘ending’ but i’m gonna have a majorly fluffy epilogue of sorts, so keep an eye out for that! plus a shout out to my awesome beta and sounding board raleighs-innergoddess, u da raddest bae.

Bellamy swung open the door to his rather empty apartment without bothering to turn on the lights. There was an envelope waiting for him on the counter. Bellamy slid out a note written on purple stationery.

_Happy Birthday, Bell. I know you’re off enjoying your honeymoon, and you won’t see this until you get home, but I left some ice cream cake in the freezer. I love you. Call me when you’re back, big brother- I want to meet this wife of yours. xoxo, O._

He grimaced.  _How could he have forgotten it was his birthday?_ Tucked into the envelope was a small certificate that read:  _King-size bed frame and mattress from Mattress World._  Apparently his measly full-sized bed wasn’t marriage appropriate and Octavia sought to remedy it.

Bellamy stalked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. It was only four in the afternoon, but what the hell. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Miller’s number.

 _“You’re back early.”_  There was a weighted pause,  _“Why are you back early?”_

“It’s, uh, complicated. Wanna come over and watch the Orioles game?”

_“Because it’s your birthday, yes. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about why you’re home early and inviting me over to watch baseball when you should be with your wife.”_

With gritted teeth, Bellamy hung up the phone and collapsed onto the couch, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a deep swig of cold beer. Twenty minutes later, Miller let himself into the apartment and joined Bellamy on the couch with a drink in his hand.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the Orioles get their asses kicked by the Yankees.

“Quit staring at me, Miller.” Bellamy sighed, eyes glued on the television.

“Are you going to  _tell me_  why you’re home four days early… and why you’re here  _alone?_ ” Miller asked, emphasizing the “alone-ness” of the situation Bellamy was currently in.

“No.”

"Bellamy Blake,” Miller pressed.

Bellamy turned to look at him, “Nathan Miller,” he shot back petulantly.

Miller looked at him expectantly.

With a slight roll of his eyes, Bellamy sighed, “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, you said that already,” Miller drawled.

It took a few more minutes, and another few swigs of his drink, before Bellamy started again, “It turns out we weren’t actually married.”

Miller’s lips parted in surprise, and he looked at Bellamy confused. Bellamy relayed the entire situation, finishing after a few minutes, his best friend somewhat dumbfounded.

Miller blinked at him, “And you just let her go?”

“What was I supposed to do?”

Miller scoffed loudly, “Fucking go after her!”

“It’s not that easy, Nate,” Bellamy muttered.

“Except that it really is, Bellamy. You’re obviously in love with this girl--”

“It’s been three weeks!” He shot back,  his voice cracking.

Miller gave him an incredulous look, “Big _fucking_ deal, stranger things have happened.”

Bellamy slammed his bottle onto the coffee table and pushed himself off the couch, “I need some air.”

Leaving Miller on the couch, shaking his head, Bellamy headed for the fire escape. He perched himself up on lowest step and pulled out a cigarette. He’d told Octavia he’d quit, and basically had, but the last twenty-four hours had been hell and he didn’t care what she thought.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Miller was right. He was in love with Clarke.

Head spinning, he took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt into the alley below. Bellamy climbed back into the apartment and found Miller, who hadn’t moved an inch arms crossed over his chest, waiting expectantly for his best friend to come to his senses. Bellamy sniffed loudly and straightened his posture, “Okay, what do I do?”

* * *

 

Raven draped her arm around Clarke’s shoulders as she led her to the airport parking garage.

“So, the apartment’s kind of a mess.” Raven began conversationally, “Wick was helping me fix the dishwasher, and then he took it all apart before I could do anything. And I kicked him out before he got a chance to finish it, damn engineer would probably mess it up anyhow.”

Clarke breathed a sad laugh, and Raven returned a hopeful smile.

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s get you home,” Raven gave her a gentle squeeze and they made their way to Raven’s car. “Will you at least tell me about the honeymoon before everything went to shit?”

She didn’t want to. What Clarke  _wanted_  to do was sulk and wallow in her self-pity. She’d had an amazing trip, there was no denying it but, she didn’t want to think about the toe-curling orgasms, or the side-splitting laughter. She didn’t want think about the flutters in her chest when Bellamy’s hand brushed against hers or the way his smile lit up the room when he’s eaten all the pineapple provided for them in their cooking class and the teacher glared at him for ruining the dish. And she  _definitely_  didn’t want to think about the way the way her chest ached when she caught him looking at her, with impossibly soft eyes that she lost herself in.

But on the drive home, she found herself spilling everything to her best friend. Raven sat quietly as she guided them home, absorbing every word that she spoke, not commenting on the rogue tears streaking her cheeks.

Reaching the apartment, Raven rolled Clarke’s suitcase behind them as she draped her arm around her best friend. Once inside, Raven stopped and pointed to the bar stool in the kitchenette. “Sit,” she demanded. Clarke frowned and dropped her purse on the counter as she hopped up onto the seat.

“Clarke,” Raven voice was soft, but urgent, “You’re my  _best_  friend.”

“And you’re mine.” Clarke said nodding along with Raven.

“But you’re being a  _fucking_  idiot.” Raven finished somewhat forcefully and not a little bit exasperated.

Clarke gaped at her, mouth open in shock at what her friend was saying to her.

“No, Clarke. I’m serious. Listen, I  _know_  it’s been three weeks, I  _know_  you’ve got a shit ton else on your plate. But I  _also_  know that I have never seen you like this. You’re different with him.”

Dropping her gaze to her hands, Clarke shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

They shared a minute of silence before Raven cleared her throat, “I just-- I love you, and I don’t want to see you throw away something really incredible because you’re scared. Okay?”

Clarke dragged her eyes back up, uncertainty written all over her face, “What do I do?”

A small smile crept onto Raven’s face.

* * *

It was late when Bellamy pulled up in front of Clarke and Raven’s apartment. He hesitated in the front seat, unbuckling his seat belt after a few minutes of silence. Approaching the building, he scanned the buzzer for their information, finally hitting the button for apartment 4C.

_“Who is it?”_  Raven’s voice came through tinny.

“I, um. It’s Bellamy.” He said, his nerves still gripping him.

The door clicked open a second later and Bellamy pushed through, hurrying up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator currently sitting on the twelfth floor.

He raised his hand to knock on the door just as it swung open to reveal an exasperated Raven Reyes.

“ _Shit,_  Bellamy! Why are you here?” She shouted at him.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see Clarke!” He shouted back.

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose, “I know that, but-- shit. Bellamy, she went to see  _you!_ ”

Bellamy’s mouth dropped open, “She what?”

Raven pressed her palm to her forehead, “She left half an hour ago on the bus to  _Baltimore._ ”

Bellamy turned on his heels and flew down the stairs. If he left now, he could get back to his apartment about the same time as her.

 _“Good luck!”_  Raven called down the hallway, sporting a wide smile.

* * *

 

Clarke sat on the bus, forehead pressed against the cool glass. It was late, and dark had overtaken the sky as she watched the lights of the buildings fly past her. She didn’t mind Baltimore. It didn’t quite have the museum allure of DC, but it did have an Aquarium… and Bellamy.

The driver announced that they would be pulling into the station in ten minutes and Clarke collected her bag from the floor and set it in her lap, playing with the zipper nervously.

She hadn’t brought  _much_ , but optimistically had brought enough to be out the whole night. After coming to a stop, the bus doors opened and Clarke headed to the line of taxis waiting. She climbed in the back and gave the driver Bellamy’s address, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

They pulled up in front of the apartment building and Clarke paid the driver before she stepped onto the sidewalk, hesitating as the taxi drove away.  _What the hell am I doing?_  She swallowed thickly before beginning her ascent. Stopping just short of the buzzer, she contemplated turning around chewing her bottom lip nervously.

Despite it being nearly midnight, the street was still busy with cars and Clarke was suddenly overwhelmed with the noise, the emotion, the exhaustion from travelling, and the overall weight of the choice she in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and spun on her heels about to retreat down the steps.

 _“Wait!”_  a husky voice wheezed.

Clarke’s eyes flew open to see Bellamy standing at the bottom of the staircase, hair disheveled and trying to catch his breath.

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Clarke’s stomach suddenly churned with anxiety and excitement, and she tried to harness the energy flowing through her.

“I went-- went to DC,” he said still trying to catch his breath. He took the first step, trying to get his wild curls under control.

“You,” Clarke stepped down from the top step, “went to DC?”

Bellamy nodded, “Raven said you were on your way here.”

Clarke nodded too and took another step towards him, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Me too,” Bellamy’s mouth twitched into a small smile.

“It’s only been three weeks.”

“I don’t care,” he dismissed.

“We’re busy people,” Clarke countered, slowly taking another step down.

“I don’t care,” Bellamy repeated, closing their gap by another stride.

They were only three steps apart now, and Clarke sighed, “Surprisingly… neither do I.”

Bellamy bit his lip, trying to control the elation he was feeling.

He took one final step upwards and they were matched eye-to-eye, and Clarke was smiling warmly.

“Well, Doctor Griffin, what do you propose?”

She studied his gentle hazelnut eyes for a moment, her smile brightening as she thought about it.

_“This.”_

Clarke grabbed his face and pulled him fervently against her, lips meeting in a needy kiss as Bellamy’s hands gripped at her waist. It felt like it had been years since they’d last kissed, even though it was probably only thirty-six hours ago.

With a gentle tug on his bottom lip, Clarke pulled back and Bellamy groaned. Laughing, Clarke brushed her nose against his as Bellamy rubbed gentle circles on the skin just above the waistband of her jeans.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” she said, tipping her gaze upwards.

Bellamy smiled, “It’s not quite my birthday anymore.” He held up his watch that pointed at three minutes past midnight.

Clarke leaned in close, breath hot in his ear as she whispered,“But I didn’t get to give you your present,”

Bellamy pulled back and quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? And what’s that?”

Clarke pulled out from their embrace and backed up the stairs slowly, teasing, “It’s not something I can just give you on the streets, Mr. Blake.”

Bellamy shook his head with a smirk and chased her up the steps, grabbing at her waist to pull her flush against him as he fumbled with his keys. Clarke couldn’t keep her hands off of him as they rode the elevator to the third floor and Bellamy stumbled down the hallway as she draped herself around him. They finally reached his apartment and the door gave way, slamming behind them as Clarke shrugged her sweater off and Bellamy reached for her, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around him.

Baltimore had been pretty muggy this June and Bellamy usually left his windows open at night, so the apartment was full of damp air and Clarke’s skin was already glistening in the dim lighting of the apartment. Her hair was thrown up in a bun and the loose strands clung to her neck as he kissed the delicate skin below her ear. She mewled against him as they crashed into the bedroom and they dropped to the bed tangled together.

Bellamy made quick work of undressing the rest of her, noting the matching black lace underwear set she was wearing.  _“Your present”_ , she rasped as he dragged them down her legs. Her body shivered at the touch of his calloused fingers against her heat. He wasted no time, sucking and thrusting as she squirmed above him, grabbing at his hair.

He moved upwards as she let the wave of pleasure roll over her and she tasted herself on his lips as returned fully to her. Clarke flipped them over, lowering herself on to him as she took control. Bellamy’s head dropped against the pillow, gripping tightly as her hips as they moved together. She arched her back as Bellamy’s hand slipped between them and they rode out the rest of their high together.

They laid together afterwards, bodies sweaty and worn as the breeze rolled in through the window. Clarke rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as Bellamy played with the messy curls that had come loose.

Bellamy’s eyes were heavy and he’d never felt so happy and contented. Clarke watched him silently as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm.

“Marry me,” she whispered.

His fingers froze in her hair and he turned to look at Clarke, her face flush and eyes bright.

“Clarke…”

“Marry me, Bellamy.” She said again, her voice so sure and steady.

Bellamy sat up, leaning back against the headboard.

Clarke scrambled to a seated position, practically climbing into his lap, “We thought we were married before, so what’s the difference? This doesn’t really change anything, does it?”

“Is this really what you want?” Bellamy searched her eyes hopefully.

Clarke pressed a palm to his cheek and Bellamy leaned into her touch, “More than anything.”

Bellamy smiled, not one of his smug smirking kind of smiles or his  _‘I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you’_  smiles, but a full on,  _‘nothing could bring me down at this moment’_  smiles. He surged forward and kissed Clarke on the mouth before burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her against him.

Clarke laughed, body vibrating against his, “Is that a yes?”

Bellamy kissed her shoulder, “That’s a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> join my in my [trash can](http://nathenmiller.tumblr.com/tagged/baggageclaim)


	11. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one year later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i'm not 100% happy. but i've been so stressed about having so many unfinished projects-- so i powered through.  
> i hope you enjoy and leave me some lovin' if you did.

_one year later_

Clarke sat at the end of the dining room table, watching her mother and Octavia engrossed in the wedding plan book that Octavia had so meticulously pieced together. Her brain was swimming with color swatches and flower arrangements and seating charts and god, _did it ever end?_

“Clarke, do you think it would be okay to put Marcus at the same table as the Jaha’s?” her mother broke through her train of thought.

Snapping her eyes back into focus, Clarke wrinkled her nose, “Uh, I think they’ve made nice, for the time being.”

Thelonious and Marcus have been back and forth in the local politics and their standing with _each other_ changed on a weekly basis.

Abby nodded knowingly and hunched back over, talking in hushed whispers with her future sister-in-law. Clarke shook her head as her phone vibrated against the table.

 

_How goes the wedding planning?_

**god just kill me**

_It can’t be that bad._

**octavia wants an ice sculpture bell AN ICE SCULPTURE**

_To be fair, she had her own wedding planned from age five on, so…_

**so shouldn’t she have already gotten it out of her system!?**

 

“... and we’ll put the Sinclairs with Jackson and his girlfriend and-- Clarke!”

Clarke set her phone down and clenched her jaw, offering a thin lipped smile, “Yes, mother?”

“You’re not even paying attention!”

Her eyes bugged at the accusation, “You literally haven’t let me get a word in the entire planning process!”

Octavia’s jaw dropped, “That’s not true!”

Giving her an incredulous look, Clarke pointed at the stack of catering options, “I didn’t even get invited to the taste-test!”

Guilt crossed Octavia’s face as she shrunk back against her seat. Clarke took a deep breath, “I’m just a little worn out on today, okay?” She pushed back from the table and grabbed her purse, “Let’s just pick this back up tomorrow.”

She hurried from the room before Abby or Octavia could protest.

* * *

 

Clarke sat with her feet curled up under her, flipping through the channels and drinking a very large glass of wine. It seemed like there was nothing on but wedding movies and weddings shows. TLC? Four Weddings. ABC Family? The Wedding Planner. STARZ? Made of Honor. It taunted and haunted her at every corner.

In the year since she’d asked Bellamy to marry her, Clarke had been introduced to Octavia, her husband Lincoln and their two kids Auggie and Yorke. And she loved Octavia, honestly, she did. But once she latched onto a project, she _latched on_ , and this wedding had become _her_ project. From picking out the bridesmaids dresses ( _What, I am not wearing a dress that makes me look pregnant, Clarke!_ ) to the caterer ( _Yorke has way too many allergies, Clarke!_ ) to the reception venue ( _Trust me, Clarke, this is your aesthetic!_ )

Flicking off the television, she heard Bellamy’s keys at the door and she turned slightly, resting her chin on the back of the couch as her fiancee entered the apartment. Bellamy dropped his bag by the entryway and strode over to her, kissing her over the barrier of the couch. As he pulled back, he eyed the glass of wine in her hands and the near empty bottle on the coffee table.

“Rough day?” his voice washed over her and instantly calmed her.

Clarke pouted at him, “Your sister is driving me crazy. My mom-- I already knew my mom drove me crazy, but the two of them together take it to a whole new level.”

Bellamy pressed his lips to her frown, his laughter vibrating through her as she huffed impatiently.

“Bell,” she murmured between kisses, “I’m serious!”

He withdrew and stood up, loosening his tie as he circled around the couch and flopped down beside her. Clarke set her wine glass down and nestled into his side. Bellamy draped an arm around her and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I love you,” he murmured.

“Remind me again why I let Octavia plan my wedding?”

“You love me?”

Clarke chuffed, “Yeah, right.” Bellamy shrugged and Clarke clambered into his lap, knees slotting in on either side of him. “I never wanted this-- the big to-do with fancy name cards and flowers with names I can’t pronounce. I never _needed_ that. I just need you.”

Bellamy brought his hands up and cupped her face, gently drawing her lips to his own. Clarke slumped slightly, tension flowing out of her as they kissed lazily. They broke apart, foreheads resting against each other.

“I just need you, too.” Bellamy said assuredly.

Clarke brought her palm to the scruff peppering his jaw, brushing her thumb against his cheek, “I just want to be your wife. No frills.”

“Then let’s just go to the courthouse.”

Clarke pulled back in surprise, “What?”

Bellamy shrugged again, “Let’s just go to the courthouse! I’ll bring Miller-- you bring Raven. We’ll say ‘I do’ and sign a piece of paper. No frills. Just us-- getting married, _finally_ … er, again?”

Throwing her head back, Clarke broke out into laughter. Bellamy frowned as Clarke literally shook against him. “What?” he asked in confusion.

Clarke stopped, her eyes wet and kissed Bellamy quickly. “We literally went from eloping-- drunk-- in Vegas, to not actually being married, to _actually_ getting engaged, to planning a big fancy elitist wedding on my mother’s dime to _getting hitched in a court house?_ Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

“Every minute being with you has been insane, but I wouldn’t change it for anything,” Bellamy said, dropping a kiss to her collarbone.

Thinking about it, Clarke rest her weight on Bellamy’s knees while he toyed with the frayed ends of her jean shorts. “Well… I mean, I’m off from the hospital tomorrow.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

“And, I just bought that cute white sundress last week-- that would do, wouldn’t it?” Clarke furrowed her brow in concentration and Bellamy could see the gears turning.

He ran his hands down her arms and kissed her forehead. “Clarke Griffin, I’ll marry you tomorrow, next week, or next year. However you want to do it.”

The corners of her mouth tugged upward and she met his gaze, “Let’s get married tomorrow.”

Bellamy surged forward and their lips crashed together.

Pulling away, Clarke’s eyes were bright with unshed tears and Bellamy was beaming.

“Tomorrow it is,” he laughed.

* * *

 

_group text_

**bellamy and i are eloping. reception @ grounders in alexandria 8pm. come if you want to celebrate.**

* * *

 

“Your mother is going to kill me,” Raven sighed as she finished weaving Clarke’s hair into an intricate braid.

Clarke frowned, “You can’t be that afraid of my mother.”

Raven stopped and stared at her in the mirror, “Have you met your mother?”

Shrugging, Clarke ran her thumb under her eye to fix a small smudge of mascara. Raven grasped her best friends shoulders as they stood admiring their reflection in the mirror. “Ready?”

Clarke smiled, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I mean, how often do you get to elope with Bellamy Blake?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes.

“I mean, other than before.”

* * *

 

“We really should get going,” Clarke breathed, arching her back as Bellamy nibbled at her inner thigh.

He let out a warm puff of air and raised his head slightly to look at her, her breasts heaving. “You think we should get going? Now?” Bellamy lowered his chin and pressed his tongue hot and heavy against her slit, causing her to squirm beneath him.

“It’s, _ah,_ 7:30. _Fuck,_ and we said-- _Bellamy_ \-- 8:00,” she panted.

He had her coming undone by 7:32 and dropped onto the mattress beside her as she try to steady her breathing. “Now, what’s the point of this fancy hotel suite if you don’t want to let me go down on you in this grandiose king-sized bed with fluffy pillows and room service?”

Clarke rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “We have a king size bed at home,” she said matter-of-fact.

Bellamy chuckled, “Are you really trying to get out of your husband eating you out?”

Swatting at him, she returned to her back and stared up at the ceiling, idly fingering the familiar gold band on her left hand. “Say that again.”

“Eating you out?”

“No!” she laughed.

“Husband?”

Clarke quickly scrambled up and threw a leg over his hip, bringing herself to a straddled position. “My husband. You’re my husband.”

“And you’re my wife,” Bellamy said, shifting to a sitting position so their chests were pressed together.

“Insane.”

Bellamy nodded, kissing her softly, “Every minute.”

* * *

They did finally make it to the reception, and Clarke had to talk her mother down from her hysterics. 

_“Think of all the money you’ll save mom, and you won’t have to worry about Marcus and Theo fighting about dancing with me during the father-daughter dance.”_

Octavia wasn’t very happy either, but the moment she saw Bellamy and Clarke stealing kisses in the corner of the bar, ignoring most everyone in attendance… she knew that nothing else really mattered. And, nobody really seemed to mind the couple slipping out an hour later, after they'd had a few rounds of drinks on the Doctors Griffin.

Raven would go on to boast of her magical 'Get Clarke Laid' skills, aka, bombarding Clarke's luggage with condoms and lacy black lingerie-- but Bellamy and Clarke knew there was something more than that: a connection that didn't require racing through an airport before the gate closed. Call it whatever you want: fate, destiny... whatever it was, they were happy, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here, just dumb nerds being in love and it's all fluff and i'm not even sorry. thanks for reading!


End file.
